


Voldemort's bad no good day and Lily's even worse evening

by SDCDCI



Series: Little Dirty Love [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDCDCI/pseuds/SDCDCI
Summary: Voldemort is having a bad day. Lily Potter's will go even worse.





	Voldemort's bad no good day and Lily's even worse evening

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to have any archive warnings because Voldemort is a warning in and on himself.  
> But there are no one-legged puppies, I swear.
> 
> Slightly more character deaths than in the canon, though.

"Not Harry, please, no!" shrieked woman. "Take me instead!"

 

And he was seriously tired off all this vailing. He visited Longbottoms, previously in the evening, and spent some time getting his frustration out, venting his dissatisfaction with how things were getting along in between the Cruciatus curses. It didn't help him all that much. Doubt was creeping up on him, almost at the first time in his life. What was he doing with his life? Sure, only a little thing was standing between him and immortality, between magnificent Lord Voldemort and the whole Magical Britain. But after? When he assumes the power over all magical beings and restore the order as he understands it, what will he do then?

 

His imagination failed him.

 

He thought, long and hard, about the ruling. How he will do it. But he found it really tedious to manage his Death Eaters if he was totally honest with himself.

 

"They just always need directions," he said morosely then, to Frank and Alice, crying themselves hoarse at the warm deadwood floor of their kitchen. "Or else they will do nothing, mostly, and those who will do something would manage to inflict more damage than helping my cause whatsoever."

 

Frank, at the end, stopped making any sound except, when he violently twitched, it was making an unpleasant 'tump, tump, tump' when his head met with the flooring. Alice, hiccupping, tried to reach him but lost the last bits of control of her body movements. The sharp scent of urine filled the room.

 

"Ugh," said Voldemort, killing her instantly and leaving the way he got in, stepping over the body of a child.

 

So when he reached Potters, he didn't make the same mistake twice. He killed James instantly, though he wasn't in a hurry to go up the stairs where Lily ran off to.

 

This was not a pleasant evening. He felt a migraine coming up. Since when he had migraines? Since never, and yet.

 

So when the second time in the short two hours span some girl started pleading him to spare her baby, he didn't waste time.

 

He silenced and immobilize her with a precise wand movement.

 

"Do you really think it would work?" asked he tiredly. "What I will bargain with you, or ask permission to murder your child?"

 

Lily, of course, said nothing. Yes, she was more receptive audience than Longbottoms.

 

But suddenly he had nothing to say. The fight left him for the time being.

 

He quickly finished off his task and then, at last, sat himself down on the rocking chair at the opposite wall.

 

Lily's eyes followed him. They were burning with such an anguish he wasn't sure he ever felt something like this before. He contemplated if it was really a good thing as he always thought it is. But truth be told, he couldn't think of a single thing what would make him so undone after losing it. Did he even have anything worth having, if he didn't really care if he lost it?

 

Lily Potter was ready to die instead of her son. It, the useless baby who could not fend for himself or be of any help, was somehow worth to her dying for.

 

Of course, for Lord Voldemort, dying was not in the cards anymore. But did he have anything worth living for, eh?

 

"I'm having an existential crisis," he said out loud suddenly, surprising himself with revelation. "I ensured my own immortality and then, what? Lost the meaning of life? It's so absurd. Life is absurd. And meaningless. Why do I even bother?"

 

In reply he only got a look of hatred so strong, he was sure he didn't even feel it towards Dumbledore.

 

He, lately, was oddly indifferent towards the old fool; after all, Dumb-Dumb was beneath him.

 

"I have nothing to be challenged with," he continued, figuring it out as he spoke. "Nothing really to prove, not anyone to prove something to. Had I reached my peak? Will it be all downhill from now on? No, it can't be."

 

He started out of the chair, sending it rocking as though possessed. He passed back and forth.

 

"I refuse retirement," he murmured. "I refuse to think I accomplished the greatest thing possible for me. There should not be anything impossible for me! No limits! So what if I don't find it gratifying anymore being around these blundering fools that call themselves my followers. Damn them all!"

 

He stopped for breath, glanced by chance at Lily.

 

Her face would be full of fury and disgust if her facial muscles worked, it looked like.

 

"What do you know, anyway," he said grudgingly. "The only reason you are still alive right now, anyway, is because of not one, but two my most devoted and not completely stupid followers begged me on their knees to keep you alive. I do not understand what so special about you, in the end. You do not seem particularly bright or talented or pretty. Well, one of them certainly thinks you are. The other, though, is not usually as easily swayed by a woman's beauty. So there must be something, after all."

 

He squinted, as though to discern that little something special, but, of course, he saw nothing. He shrugged and moved on to a matter on hand.

 

"And what do I do now?" mused he out loud. "I won't kill you. But I can't very well leave you to roam the streets like a vengeful wraith, either. I can take everything you could dare to throw at me and then some, but is it wise to give you an opportunity? It almost as if I've given you permission."

 

He eyed her right hand.

 

"Well, as a counter-measures go, it will do for now," he said.

 

Her bones from the hand to shoulder crumbled with a satisfying sound.

 

It was rhythmic, almost a song of some kind. Should he, perhaps, to take up drumming


End file.
